


drink up, fall down, then we do it all again

by notthebigspoon



Series: Good Directions [1]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bengie is a yenta, Buster is a drunkass and Tim is surprisingly longsuffering.</p><p>Title taken from This Afternoon by Nickelback.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drink up, fall down, then we do it all again

Bengie: Trouble in paradise?

Timmy L: No. Why?

Bengie: Just seems like you’re avoiding Posey is all.

Timmy L: I don’t know what Sandoval is telling you or telling your brother that your brother is telling you, but I am not involved with Posey.

Bengie: So something is going on.

Timmy L: What?

Bengie: You only call him Posey when you’re mad at him.

Timmy L: Nothing’s going on.

Bengie: So this has nothing at all to do with him not liking your boyfriend?

Timmy L: My relationship with Ezra was none of Buster’s business. Stop taking his side.

Bengie: I’m taking no one’s side. But thank you for confirming what I thought.

Timmy L: It has nothing to do with why Buster’s not catching for me. I wouldn’t let that shit get in the way, you know that.

Bengie: I don’t know. I remember you hating him kind of a lot for not being me. By the way, what is it with you and wanting to sleep with your catchers?

Timmy L: I’ve had a series of incredibly good looking ones.

Timmy L: And no, Hector’s not in danger and neither is Whitey. Sanchez would catch the first flight he could to come murder me in my sleep.

Bengie: You’re a cruel kid. Trading me in for a new and younger model.

Timmy L: Aw baby. You know I’d still nail you in a heartbeat.

Bengie: Don’t tempt me. I could climb on a plane and then where would we be?

Timmy L: Getting senile in your old age if you can’t figure that out.

Bengie: Talk to Posey. Whatever your deal is, work it out. I want you to be happy.

Timmy L: Love you too Molina.

***

Timmy: Where you at? You busy?

Buster: i am in the floor. this carpet is scratchy. and crawford is very heavy.

Timmy: Why are you in the floor with Crawford?

Buster: because we were playing the big bang theory drinking game and every time sheldon said something crazy we drank. and I was going to go back to my room but I fell and crawford decided he wanted snuggles so I volunteered. he's heavy and his beard is scratching my shoulder

Timmy: … your shoulder?

Buster: i don't know where my shirt is

Timmy: Please tell me you're wearing pants.

Buster: yup. i like these pants. they're comfy. crawford says he can see my boxers. they have hearts on them!

Timmy: What room are you in?

Buster: the hotel room

Timmy: I mean which guy's room.

Buster: theriot. i think. i like him. he smells like sunshine dust.

***

Timmy knows he's got the right room because he can hear the idiots yelling. He bangs on the door, glaring at Theriot when he answers and pushing past. Belt and Whitey are on the bed, Schierholz is in an armchair and yep, Crawford and Buster are snuggled up together on the floor like a couple of drunken puppies. Actually they're all at least tipsy and some are totally trashed and Tim takes a mean little joy in knowing they'll all be in big big trouble tomorrow if they turn up with hangovers. He waves off shouts of “TIMMY!” and ignores offers for a drink.

Whitey holds out the bottle of vodka, pouting and... okay, Tim can't tell Whitey no for shit. He takes the bottle, taking one swig and wincing before hanging it back and leaning over Buster. He nudges Crawford, sighing when the man tips over and hits the floor before whining that Tim is interrupting his cuddle time. Buster just beams up at Tim.

“God you're an ass when you drink.” Tim mumbles, taking Buster's arm and helping him up. “C'mon Drunky McTrashedpants. You're cut off and you're going to bed.”

A drunk Buster is a compliant Buster who will do just about anything. Tim says nothing about his mumbling and groping while he steers them back to his own room, praying that none of the coaches see them. His wish is granted and he dumps Buster in bed, sitting on the edge and smiling in return at the big stupid smile on Buster's face. He laces their fingers together, squeezing.

“Thought you were mad at me. You were mad at me.” Buster pouts. That really shouldn't be so effective. Stupid rosey cheeked Georgia boys with their puppy eyes.

“Bengie told me I was being kind of stupid. Well, in Bengie speak anyways.”

“I don't know if I should like that you're taking advice from your ex boyfriend.”

Tim snorts. “It will never cease to amaze me that you're a coherent drunk. Of course you are, Mr. Perfect. And Bengie wasn't my boyfriend. He was more like a big brother.”

“Cain is Mr. Perfect. I like Cain. He goes toro when he wins!” Buster beams before frowning. “Waiiiiit. That would mean your big brother totally nailed you. Like, all the time. I know. Everyone told me. They told me you like fucking catchers. Is that why you fuck me? Because I'm your catcher? I'm not your catcher anymore. But you can't fuck Whitey, Sanchez will kill you in your sleep. And you can't fuck the Baby Panda because Papa Panda will kill you in your sleep.”

“BUSTER! I'm not fucking any catchers!”

“You're not going to fuck me anymore?”

“Not while you're this drunk.” Tim chuckles, getting up to flip the lights off before stripping down for bed. He crawls in next to Buster, rolling his eyes at the childish beam. He oofs, eyes wide and a loud laugh erupting when Buster flings his arms around Tim and yanks him close, cheek smooshed against his head. “You interrupted my cuddly times with Crawford. You must be my teddy bear. I love you.”

“Just get some sleep, you drunkass.”

“Your drunkass. And you are my Timmeh.”

“Yes, I'm all yours, now sleep damn it.”

“Yes Timmeh.”

Jesus Buster snores when he's drunk.


End file.
